Before we get started, a quick word about one of last year's most criminally underrated albums, The Light Programme by the always extraordinary Bard of Wivenhoe, Martin Newell. This time out, the Greatest Living Englisman bypasses his trademark jingle-jangle genius for a champagne jazz vibe that perfectly underscores his wry melancholy for an Albion gone by. Bravo, Sir Martin, bravo!

We've seen a lot of stupid-looking bands in our day, but there's something about the Bravery that really fucking gets on our tits. Dumb jocks in makeup and fauxhawks, peddling fifth-rate bandwagon-jumping pub New Wave -- sorry, but we're not buying in. Oh, and personal to the band, here's three words for ya: Skabba the Hutt.

Big news from the schmatta business: Sean John boss Jeff Tweedy is no longer with the company. Rumors that he's been replaced by Tommy Hilfiger designer Jay Farrar were not confirmed at press time.

WrestleMania Matches We'd Like to See: Matt Hardy and James Wolcott vs Edge and Kurt Andersen. Tables, ladders and complex arguments! No bon mots barred!

For some reason, Richard Linklater's unnecessary remake is called Bad News Bears as opposed to the correct The Bad News Bears. WTF? Excuse us -- WF?

Y'know, we're loathe to take Brandon Flowers' side in just about anything, but compared to the Bravery, the Killers are My Bloody Fucking Valentine!

Well Hung at Dawn would like to take this opportunity to deny any and all involvement with the shooting of that Week in Weird reporter. We were nowhere near Hot 97 at the time.

Erm: "Special Guest Director Quentin Tarentino"? It could be worse, we suppose -- he could be acting.

Erm Deux: Bruce Willis and Lindsey Lohan? We understand her need for a father figure, but isn't that just a case of six of one, half dozen the other.

Call us purists, but Steven Weber should not be treading the boards at the Old Vic . . . Superman is a dick.

Naturally, we mourn for Raoul Duke. And for Mark the Shark. And Charlie and Denise. And, please, everyone have a thought for Edwyn Collins.

But what we're really bummed about is NYPD Blue. In particular, we'd like to bid farewell to Henry Murph. He's no Sipowicz, but he gave us twelve great years of sitting in the room, babysitting perps and skels. We'll take it from here, Hank.

Sorry, but we're just not all that interested in saving CBGBs. Besides, when the Ramones are being used to hawk Pepsi -- fuck, Diet Pepsi! -- what's the frickin' point?

The opening of The Shield season premiere is the funniest fucking thing ever . . . When we saw that Matt Pond PA was credited for that mindbogglingly horrid rendition of "Champagne Supernova" on The OC a week or two back, we naturally assumed Josh Schwartz was doing something nice for one of the show's production assistants. Turns out Matt Pond is an actual artist! With records and everything! Yikes!

Everybody psyched for Revenge of the Sith?

Free Jeff Koyen! By the way, we have it on good authority that the Pope Smokes Dope.

Anybody know if Murphy Brown holds up? God knows the cast and writers didn't . . . Which would suck more, going to see Graham Coxon thinking you were going to see Graham Colton, or vice-versa?

OK, it's been a while since the Oscars, but we can just say: 1) Sunday four weeks early still pretty much blows; 2) Instead of saying "Hilary Swank is the first woman to play a boxer to be nominated for an Academy Award, they should have said, Hilary Swank is the first 90210 vet to win an Academy Award (the Best Picture won, btw), and; 3) The Story of the Weeping Camel was robbed! (And, of course, he's very, very sad about it.)

You know what really dresses up a frozen veggie burger? Bacon.

Michael Madsen is Glenn Frey . . . Sorry, but the only magazine Kevin Federline should be on the cover of is Star. Or maybe InStyle . . . Yale alumni G.W. Bush is Charlotte Simmons. But does he think the book's as good as Left Behind?

TV news e-mail headline of the week: "Pregnant Woman in Labor Charged With Soliciting." Sad story. She only asked for her regular rate, as opposed to charging for a specialty. Doesn't 50 Cent teach his girls anything?

Hey, how about those Flyers! By which we mean, the Dayton Flyers baseball team . . . Which would suck more, going to see The Pacifier or going to see Man of the House?

This month's inductees into the Museum of the Overrated: Bloc Party and Antony and the Johnsons . . . Ironically, when Head starts making Christian Rock, it won't be any worse than Korn.

Re: The Bravery, Steve Sutherland really ought to know better.

OK, everybody go see Paul K and the Weathermen and the Dawn Parade in Austin. Faithful WHAD readers, groupies and e-mail stalkers are invited to drop by Jason's wedding party at Hole in the Wall on the afternoon of March 16th. No Radiohead fans. Oh, and if you didn't see our Grammy column, revist the magic here.

Next up: WHADSXSW!

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[NOTE: The above are the opinions of Cohen and Krugman, and not necessarily those of the editors of Rolling Stone, but we'll see you at the wedding.]